


I'll Be Your Keeper

by Somekindofcontraption



Category: Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hades is sick, Hecate is scheming, Romantic Fluff, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-12-24 15:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21101414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somekindofcontraption/pseuds/Somekindofcontraption
Summary: When the King of the Underworld gets sick, everyone everywhere suffers.





	1. Part One

Hades could not have planned a more appropriate atmospheric soundtrack to his suffering than the pouring rain and howling winds of this particularly terrible Monday. This was because Hades, King of the Underworld, God of Death and Wealth, Receiver of Many, so on and so forth, had a particular distaste for Mondays in general, but also because on this particular Monday he was very, very sick.

When the King of the Underworld gets sick, everyone everywhere suffers.

Exhibit A: an otherwise normal day, not a proverbial cloud in the sky, suddenly giving way to a dry underground thunderstorm, followed by a bout of snow, followed by great gusts of hot summer-like wind, following by ice-cold pouring rain.Hades had only been out of bed for two hours, and by 10am everyone was in a frenzy trying to shelter in the office building.

Hades was not so much seated at his desk as he was half slumped over it. A cup of tea long since gone cold was leaving a ring of moisture on the wood that he couldn’t quite bring himself to care about, while mountains of used tissues were piled so high they had begun to spill over onto the floor next to him.

In front of him was an extra-large stack of unsigned contracts and judgements that needed his attention. If he could stop dripping on them long enough to look them over he could surely get them done and get himself home to rest. Unfortunately, on the rare occasion he did fall ill, he fell _spectacularly_ ill, and the leaky tap where his nose used to be was making it difficult to do anything at all. Every few minutes he pulled out another tissue and blew half-heartedly into it.

The last time that Hades had been sick was one for the history books. Quite literally, the mortals recorded it in their histories to remind themselves that the Gods were not to be meddled with. Never mind that they hadn’t _actually_ meddled with any Gods, or done anything wrong at all. 

Mortals always think that everything is about _them. _

For two solid weeks the mortal realms had endured volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, and generally inclement weather. Ash and chalky rain blanketed the region, lava flowed into the oceans and boiled them, and harvests were burnt by lightning-induced wild fires.

The mortals got so desperate to appease the Gods that they started leaving offerings en masse at every dedicated temple, from Zeus to Haephestus and even _Dionysus,_ in hopes that they might figure out which God was angry with them. No God was angry with them, obviously, and you wouldn’t mind, but Hades was the only God they _didn’t_ think to leave any offerings for.

Offerings wouldn’t have helped, but it’s nice to be included, _thank you very much._

Hades grabbed his pen and just as he leaned over to tackle the contract on the top of the pile, someone opened - no, scratch that, _kicked - _his office door open.

“HADES!” Hecate, draped in a black shroud and a floor length-black gown, splintered the door near the hinges with the force she’d levied at it. Everything she wore was soaked through, dripping on the tile floor of his office, and her normally immaculate hair was plastered to her forehead. When she moved her sandals made an annoying squelching noise. “What in name of _Hera_ is going on with the weather? I was in the mortal realm when I got caught up in a snow storm. A s_now storm, _Hades. In the _Summer. _And don’t even get me started on the weather down _here_!”

The thing about Hecate is that all of her kindness and concern often came buried under several layers of something that looked a whole lot like anger. Knowing that was one thing, but experiencing it was another, and looking at her now he was at the very least a _tiny_ bit afraid.

Hades sniffled pathetically into a tissue. Hecate’s eye twitched, and she quickly crossed the distance between them, took off one long black glove, and put the back of her hand on his clammy forehead.

_“I knew it,” _she said accusingly. “You’re sick.” 

“Um… no?” Hades tried for a charming smile, but the effect was ruined by the tremendous sneeze that followed. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled. 

“I suppose this weather is happening all on its own, then?” She replied dryly, and it dawned on him that it was ridiculous for him to feel so, well, _scolded._ By a colleague and a friend, no less.

“Last I checked I’m still the boss here.” Hades said in a small voice. “I’ve got so much work to do, honestly, I can’t afford to—“ 

“Go home.” 

“But —“ 

“Go. Home. Now.”

Before Hades could continue his (losing) argument, he was interrupted by a hesitant knock on the open door. He squinted past Hecate, who was starting to look a bit fuzzy around the edges, to see Persephone hovering at the threshold of his office, looking at his splintered door frame with a great deal of concern. 

There was not a single scrap of mercy in the entire universe, because not only was Persephone here when he was _sick, _and not only was she completely drenched, but she was also wearing _white. _

Any hope he might have had to seem in control of his faculties was lost in that moment. The dress she was wearing was tight all over, with a rounded neckline and a short hem. Water made the material cling to her underthings, to the point that one could tell that they were definitely lacy. A beautiful floral shrug was the only thing standing between her and complete indecency, and as it was also soaked it wasn’t doing a very good job of covering anything.

Persephone’s eyes darted from the damaged door, over to Hecate, and then slid past Hecate to Hades. After giving him a quick once-over she _pouted, _damn her, looking at him with those big, lovely eyes. “Is everything okay?” 

Hecate’s slow turn towards Hades would have been comical, if the cartoonish grin spread across her face were directed at anyone else. But being the subject of whatever devious plan she’d just concocted, her movements seemed almost predatory. Her lips parted, exposing perfect rows of shiny, pointed teeth. “Oh, everything’s _fine, _I was just saying to Hades that he needs to find a ride home. He’s in _no_ shape to work today, just look at him!” 

Hecate was playing dirty, whatever she was playing at, and judging by the look on Persephone’s face it was working. Hades had never been so affronted in his life. Persephone moved a few steps closer, brows drawn together so that her forehead crinkled just a little bit between them. Gods, but he just wanted to plant a kiss right there in that exact spot, smooth out that little furrow. 

When she moved her dress made an obscene sound, wet on wet as it stretched over her skin, that he tried not to think about.

Hades groaned, knocking his forehead on the desk several times. “I already told you, I have far too much work to— work to—“ Of _course_ his body chose that exact moment to let out a loud, wet sneeze. Outside, bits of hail began pelting the window. “Far too much work to do.” 

“Oh, Hades… look at you, you must be running a fever! Hecate’s right, you should be at home.”

“Persephone’s right, of course. Say...Persephone?” Her voice was polite-as-you-please suggestive, and Hades would strangle her for this if he wasn’t afraid he’d pass out trying. Where Persephone was standing she wouldn’t be was able to see that Hecate’s mouth was stretched into a devilish grin. “You just got your driving permit, if I’m not mistaken. You’re soaked too, so of course you’ll be needing to change your clothes. Why don’t you take today off, take Hades home and make sure that he gets into bed and rest?”

Persephone said, “Of course!” just as Hades let out a strangled, “No!”

There was an awkward silence. Against his better judgment, Hades looked over at Persephone, who was doing her best approximation of her “you refused my homemade baclava” face. He’d never seen her so crestfallen, and he hoped his internal shrieking didn’t show on his face because felt like a _monster_.

“I understand if you don’t want me to drive your car, after last time. I can come with you, make sure you get home safe?” Persephone mumbled, looking at her feet. “I can always fly home after, or call Hermes,”

The second Hades pictured that exuberant red _shithead _manhandling Persephone through the air, he knew he was going to give in. ‘_I’m not jealous, it’s just that it’s cold out and raining and also he might ogle her see-through dress, and—_s_hit shit shit, don’t think about the dress.’ _

“I just have so much work, I—“

That pout was going to kill him. ‘_One little pout is all it takes to bend the will of the literal King of Hell, you absolute idiot. Her unhappiness should be illegal. You should make it illegal.’_

His thoughts were interrupted by an all-too pleased sounding Hecate.

“One time, Hades. This one time I will do your paperwork, but only if you go home and get some _rest. _Your colds are disastrous, and we can’t afford a repeat of the last time you were sick.” Hecate circled around his desk, pulling his chair away from the desk so abruptly he almost fell out of it. “Best we get you rested up before the volcanoes start blowing. The paperwork will be a nightmare. I’m _sure_ Persephone will take _excellent_ care of you.”

Persephone was practically wriggling, and the look on her face was almost worth his severely wounded ego. He tossed her a set of keys and gathered up his things to leave, all the while pretending not to notice the shit-eating grin on Hecate’s face as she waved away his tissue pile and cold tea and sat down at his desk.

“I’m trusting you to make sure he rests, Persephone!” Hecate called sweetly after them.

Persephone all but skipped out of the office. Hades trudged out behind her, trying and failing not to take any notice of her perfectly heart-shaped ass swaying under her sodden dress.

—————

In the elevator Hades pressed his forehead against the mirrored wall. The cool surface felt good on his skin, which had built up a fine sheen of sweat, flushed dark blue with fever. No doubt he’d leave a forehead-shaped mark on the mirror, and wouldn’t that just be perfectly attractive in front of Persephone, but he could hardly stand as it was. When he opened his eyes, he met her gaze in the reflection, and Persephone smiled kindly at him.

_‘She must be so excited to get out of work for the day. Or maybe she just really wanted to drive my car again. I should let her borrow my car, so that Hermes doesn’t come get her. She shouldn’t be outside in this weather… Gods, but everything hurts.’_

Hades closed his eyes again, and he didn’t realize he had drifted off for a moment with his head resting against the mirror, until a small insistent hand pressing on his arm startled him awake. Persephone and the elevator attendant looking at him expectantly. His brain zeroed in on the feel of her fingers on his arm, until she jumped back as if he’d shocked her. 

“S-sorry. I think you might have fallen asleep there, for a minute. Are you okay to walk?” 

Hades nodded, and with significant difficulty he managed to wobble out of the elevator and all the way out to his car. He wasn’t aware that it was possible for hair to hurt, but he was quite certain his did right now. 

The air was humid and crackling with electricity, even inside the parking garage. He was dimly aware that Persephone opened the door to his car for him and ushered him inside, reaching over his chest to buckle his seatbelt. This close he could smell her, that soft and floral smell that clung to her hair and skin. 

“Mmmm’you smell nice,” Hades murmured, eyes half closed and well on his way to being delirious. She had paused just inches from his face, and he reached up to brush a thumb across her cheek. “Beautiful.” 

Hades didn’t mean to actually say either of those things out loud. He wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t dreaming at the moment, because he didn’t mean to reach out and touch her, either. Persephone went an incredibly attractive shade of deep magenta and cleared her throat, gently taking his hand by the wrist and putting it in his lap. Blue flowers rained down from the crown of her head, dropping onto his shirt and into his lap.

“Thank you,” Persephone squeaked, before shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side. Hades was none the wiser to how well or poorly she drove, because the second the car started moving he fell asleep, his face pressed against the window, drool dripping out of the corner of his mouth and onto his arm.

The next time Hades drifted into consciousness he was covered up to his neck with silky sheets, which were sticking slightly to his sweat-soaked body. It was quite the fever he had this time around. He moved over a few inches to the left where it was cooler, sighing with relief. When he opened his eyes it was to the ceiling in his own bedroom, where he was lying in his own bed. The curtains were drawn, and a now-warm compress sat on his forehead.

_‘How did I get here?’_

Brain shifting slowly into gear, he vaguely remembered being ushered into the passenger seat of his car by Persephone — _Persephone._ Hades shot up in bed and immediately regretted it, letting out a long, pained groan as the room started around him. Every part of his body was aching, and his vision was bright and fuzzy around the edges.

Rubbing his throbbing temples he came to two realizations at the exact same time. 

The first was that there was a smattering of tiny blue flowers on his bedsheets and floor, leading in a meandering trail out of his bedroom door, which told him that Persephone had been here and might be somewhere in his house. 

The second, (and this was the part that was a great deal more confusing), was that he was not wearing a single damned stitch of clothing.


	2. Part Two

For someone who apparently loves to cook, Persephone thought that the contents of Hades’ fridge left a lot to be desired. 

On the top shelf there were the remnants of a stick of butter, a half finished bottle of chardonnay, milk of questionable safety, a bundle of parsley long past being useable, and 2 eggs. Every other shelf was empty, save for an open box of baking soda tucked away in the back.

Even the produce drawers were empty; she’d have at least expected some sad, wilted vegetables, but there wasn’t even that. There _was_ impressive variety of condiments in the door. This wasn’t particularly helpful, but she did look at some of the strange bottles with interest, skimming over the labels.

_‘I know he’s been working a lot, but does he not eat in his own house once in a while?’ _

Persephone leaned against the kitchen counter, frowning at the frosty floor-to-ceiling windows. The rain had stopped, and even though the sun was out there was fog rising up from the ground. It looked cold out there, if the windows were anything to go by. Anxiety picked away at her for reasons not entirely to do with the mostly-empty fridge. 

There were several things Persephone was not thinking about. 

Persephone certainly was _not _thinking about half-carrying Hades from his car to his house. Or about pulling him out of all of his wet clothing and tucking him into bed. She wasn’t thinking about how even though she tried to be respectful and not peek at him, she had caught a quick glimpse of one perfect angular hip bone and the long length of one muscular thigh. She was not thinking about how that little glimpse made her stomach do backflips.

Persephone was not thinking about what happened when she tucked the covers in around him. How Hades had reached up and grasped at her face with heated hands. How he was shaking ever so slightly, the intense quiet punctuated by his slow, sharp breaths and her stuttering heartbeat. 

“Kore… Kore, are you real?” He whispered.

“Shhhh, I’m real. Rest now.”

“D-don’t leave,” Hades croaked, his voice cracking with soreness and something else. The look in his eyes just about broke her heart. Gently, so gently, she moved his hands to his sides and covered him the rest of the way with the sheet. 

“It’s okay, I’m not leaving. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.” In a moment of tenderness, and perhaps bravery, she pressed a gentle kiss to his fevered forehead and the ground rumbled with the sound of far-off thunder.

Persephone certainly wasn’t thinking about any of that either. Not at all.

_‘What are you doing? Hades isn’t going to want you in his house when he wakes up! What’s he going to say when he realizes you took his clothes off? He’s going to think you’re such a pervert. Stupid village girl, stupid, stupid…” _

There was something satisfying about thunking her head several times against the counter. It helped her think; she estimated that she had left Hades alone only twenty minutes ago. How likely was he to wake up if she ran out to the store? 

Persephone promised she’d be there when he woke up. Hades needed caring for, and the best way to start was obviously with soup, but she didn’t want to be gone too long just in case he needed her. She’d promised him, after all.

If she could think over all of these _feelings_ she could come up with a plan, but right now all she could seem to do was replay their interaction in her head.

_‘Stop it! You’re getting giddy over nothing. He probably didn’t know what he was doing, or who he was talking to. He probably thought you were someone else. He probably just—“ _ Persephone cut off her own internal rant, drawing in the deepest breath she could muster. She held it, and after counting to ten let it out.Having coming this far, she was determined that she was going to finish what she started. 

Persephone pulled her still-wet shrug around her shoulders and grabbed the keys to Hades car. 

‘_I’ll be to the store and back before Hades wakes up. Maybe he won’t be so mad at me if I make him some soup… Besides, he’s all alone here, someone has to take care of him, and I want that someone to be me.’ _

The internal pep-talk did the trick, for now. Cerberus, who had been watching her rifle through the fridge with great interest, got a few pats on the head as she headed out the door. 

“Keep an eye on him while I’m gone, boy. I’ll be right back.”

—————

When Persephone returned, arms laden with her grocery store haul, she was no less wet then when she’d left. While there was a small reprieve from the strange, inclement weather that Hades was causing, it had of course started to pour again when she got out of the car to unload the groceries.

Her haul included cold medicine, some wash cloths, cough-soothing chest rub, the ingredients for her favorite vegetable noodle soup, and some treats for the dogs. She’d also stopped by Artemis’ house where she was able to stealthily retrieve her bottle of eucalyptus oil, some assorted homemade herbal teas, and a jar of raw honey.

_‘Cerberus must have gone to Hades’ room to keep an eye on him. Such a good boy!’ _She thought to herself. With everything laid out in front of her, and having found a stock pot, cutting board, and knife, Persephone tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the counter. _‘Well… maybe I should peek in on him really quick. Just to make sure he’s okay.’ _

Persephone left the door slightly ajar just in case Hades called for her. It might have been wishful thinking, being that this place was so big that you’d be hard-pressed to hear _anything _from one side to another, but it made her feel better. If anything were really wrong, Cerberus would surely let her know. She grabbed a cloth, ran it under cold water, and then crept down the hallway to Hades bedroom.

Hades was thankfully still fast asleep where she left him, wrapped up in a cocoon of sheets, covered from the ankles up and the chin down. There was something endearing about his big bare feet sticking out at the end of the bed, being that he was usually so put-together.

Removing his clothes was the best way to keep him cool and comfortable; the fever had him running hot, and he seemed to be sweating excessively. She didn’t want him getting dehydrated, or overheated. Plus his clothes were wet with sweat and rain, and it wouldn’t do to put him to bed that way.

As she worked through her existential crisis she watched him perhaps strictly longer than was necessary, but only because she had never seen him so peaceful before. With Cerberus was snoozing next to him, belly up, legs in the air, the two made quite the picture. It pressed in on her heart in a way she couldn’t understanding, filling her chest with a fluttering warmth. His white hair mussed from sleeping, chest rising and falling with gentle slightly labored breaths. 

Even flushed with fever he was so _beautiful._

_‘You can’t just think about how your boss is beautiful, what’s wrong with you?’_Persephone groaned internally. _‘Persephone, stop thinking about his face, put the towel on his head, and go make the man some darn soup.’_

She crept over to the bed and gently, so gently, put the rolled towel onto Hades’ burning forehead. He moaned in his sleep and pulled his feet up to curl in on himself, before going quiet once again.

Persephone was aware at that moment that she was shivering, and it wasn’t just the impure thoughts that were doing it. Her clothes clung to her uncomfortably, and the moisture meant that her thighs had been rubbing to together and it was starting to hurt. In all her rush to get back to Hades’ house, she had completely forgotten to get herself a change of clothes. 

Persephone glanced around the room. There were two doors besides the one she had come in; one of them must be a closet, being that Hades’ didn’t have a dresser of any kind. She looked at Hades’ sleeping form as if it would offer up some clue of what to do, and then over to Cerberus, who by the look of it was having a dream and couldn’t help her either.

_‘Surely he wouldn’t mind if I just…’_

With a nervous skip she opened the first door; it was his bathroom, which had a luxurious looking bathtub. Persephone itched to soak her freezing feet, sliding into warm bubbly water and relax, but after imagining him walking in on her naked she decided against it. There was soup to make, and the last thing she needed was for Hades to wake up and find her in his bathtub.

Exiting the bathroom, she opened the door to the closet and slipped inside, closing the door behind her. 

—————

As she set about dicing mirepoix to start the soup, Persephone tried not to dwell on the relaxed, homey feel of cooking in Hades’ kitchen. Garlic sizzled in olive oil and butter at the bottom of the stock pot she’d found, and the base vegetables let out a satisfying sizzle as they hit the bubbling fat. Outside the rain continued to fall, but it seemed to mostly have settled into a regular rain storm. 

Putting his clothes on made her feel warm in the belly, wobbly in the legs. She had picked out a white dress shirt and some sleeping shorts from Hades closet. He really only seemed to have white dress shirts, for the most part, and when she had put it on you couldn’t tell she was wearing his shorts underneath; the shorts needed to be tied tightly so they wouldn’t fall off of her. 

Having something warm and dry to wear was such a relief. Goosebumps broke out over the whole of her body. Her toes were numb, so she stole a pair of black socks too. As she made to leave she caught sight of herself in the closet mirror and the sight of her reflection just about sucked the breath right out of her.

Tiny blue flowers and sprigs of baby’s breath fell from her hair, a delicate shower of blue and white petals. Her skin was flushed, her hair mussed and gone curly from the moisture in the air, the shirt she was wearing unbuttoned at the top and just a tiny bit rumpled, her eyes blown wide in the low light. Persephone looked… she looked…

The unbidden thought was one that she could not and should not have been entertaining. 

_‘You should be ashamed of yourself! Stop acting like a horny teenager! Hades is sick, he doesn’t need you lusting over him in his bedroom,’ _ Persephone had chided herself, eyes still fixed on her reflection. The room felt hot as warmth pooled in her stomach, between her legs. _‘Get your act together! You’re supposed to take care of him! He trusts you!’ _

Embarrassed as well as embarrassingly aroused, Persephone had fled Hades’ bedroom trailing flowers and several brand-new feet of hair behind her. Standing in the kitchen the arousal lingered like perfume, but colored by excitement for the task at hand; after all the times he’d taken care of her, she finally had her chance to return the favor.

Humming, she poured vegetable broth over the vegetables. The sound of stock sloshing and her quiet humming drowned out the sound of approaching footsteps as Hades, wrapped in a bundle of sheets and trailed by a sleepy Cerberus, rounded the corner into the kitchen.


	3. Part Three

Hades’ fussed with his tangled sheets until he was able to wrap them securely around himself like a makeshift robe. This had the unfortunate consequence of disturbing Cerberus from his peaceful sleep, and his hell hound grumbled and flipped over to give him a cranky doggy glare. If he wasn’t so concerned with being unexpectedly very naked he would have felt bad.

Following the trail of flower petals from his bed and into his closet brought him more questions than answers; wet clothes that he recognized as Persephone’s were slung in a heap in the corner, and his favorite bed shorts were missing. 

One of his shirts was also missing, but he was too busy staring at the lacy corner of a pair of panties that peeking out from under the small pile of Persephone’s clothes to even notice. Somewhere in Tartarus a volcano erupted, making several tortured souls considerably more tortured for the time being.

What had he done to deserve this? He must have, at some point, made someone somewhere very angry. It was the only explanation for having to deal with the idea of Persephone’s underthings on his floor while also being sick. These things didn’t just happen to people, not if they didn’t deserve them… right?

Hades wriggled into a pair of sweatpants, his legs shaking pathetically, and pulled his bedsheets back up to cover his bare chest and shoulders. Determined to figure out what had happened while he was unconscious, he followed the trail of tiny fragrant blooms from the closet, out the door of his bedroom, and down the hallway towards the kitchen. 

Cerberus, who seemed interested in keeping an eye on him, followed him out.

Hades wits were very much not about him, it was safe to say. The way his throat ached, he was sure he had swallowed thumbtacks while he was sleeping, his head was still throbbing, his limbs were weak, he was thirsty. All in all he was not at his best. 

Feeling sick always made him feel a bit vulnerable, especially when his powers went out of whack. All of that being said, while he survived the titillating glimpse of lace in his closet, it did nothing to prepare him for the sight that greeted him in his kitchen. 

With Persephone’s back to him, Hades could see every single glorious inch of bare leg leading up to a white shirt; _his _white shirt. Her hair had obviously grown since she’d driven him home, and she had swept to the side in a loose braid. It was dotted with more of the dainty flowers he’d found in his room, 

Several curls had pulled loose, of the kind that he would love to tenderly tuck behind her ear.

Hades watched her stand on tiptoes to pour some kind of broth into a giant stock pot. The island was spread with a variety of items that he was certain didn’t come from his house, given the state of his fridge.

Persephone was cooking in his kitchen. Had bought things to cook in his kitchen. Had bought things to cook, in his kitchen, while wearing his shirt and… his socks? He leaned over indiscreetly to see that, yes, she was indeed wearing his socks and his missing shorts. She was doing all of these things after going around, tucking him into bed, putting cold towels on his head, stripping him naked…

_‘What the hell is wrong with you, you dusty-ass fool,’_ he thought, and his prick twitched with something he could not possibly deliver on in this state, even if it _were_ appropriate. 

The groan he’d meant to be internal was, of course, not. Persephone whipped around, a cascade of flowers fluttering from the crown of her head down onto her shoulders. 

“Oh, Hades! You’re awake!” Persephone’s smile melted away into concern, and she started worried at the plump line of her lower lip with her teeth. “Hey, you shouldn’t be walking around in this state. Your legs are shaking, do you want to lay on the couch? The soup won’t be ready for a while yet, but I can get you some tea or something.” 

_‘My legs are shaking because I want to kiss you and never let you leave,’ _Hades did not say. 

_‘Do you think when I'm feeling better I could lay you out on my counter and make love to you wearing only those socks?’ _Hades also did not say.

The King of the Underworld was stunned, completely in awe of this tiny goddess standing in his kitchen. Offering to make him tea while he rested on the couch. As if this were the _done thing_. As if people just went around _tucking _people in and making them_ soup _and driving them home when they’re sick. 

Hades was in fact so starstruck looking into that earnest face that he completely forgot to say anything, his stupid, gaping maw opening and closing silently like a fish. 

“Are you made at me, Hades? I’m sorry I had to take off your clothes. It’s just that, you had a fever and you weren’t in any state to do it yourself. I promise I didn’t peek!” That small, hurt voice broke him out of his revery. Persephone shuffled her feet, lower lip still catching between her teeth. “But then I realized _my _clothes were soaked, and I’m so stupid I just forgot to get some while I was out getting soup ingredients, and so I borrowed some of yours… I didn’t mean to invade your privacy. I hope the soup will make it up to you? 

“I— you— bu—wha—“ It took about ten solid seconds of pained and unintelligible spluttering for Hades to stop, take a deep breath, and try again. “I’m n-not _mad._ I can’t believe you’re doing all of this. F-for me. I don’t deserve— you didn’t need to. Do all this. I was appreciative of you driving me home, that was more than I would expect from anyone!”

Persephone approached him, the footfall of her sock-covered feet barely a whisper on the tile floor. Hades’ heart jumped up into his throat. A frown pulled at her lips, and she hesitated, before reaching out to tentatively touch his arm. “Everyone deserves to be taken care of when they’re sick, Hades. Especially you. Especially after all you’ve done for me. I’m happy I can do this for you. Please let me do this for you?”

If her hand wasn’t on his arm in that moment Hades was sure to have melted into a puddle on the floor. Not trusting himself to say anything he simply nodded, a little misty eyed, and brushed her fingers with his own. A light touch, careful. Both of them stood completely still, looking into one another’s faces, before the spell that had overtaken them was broken and he pulled his hand away. His face wasn’t the only one that was flushed.

“Thank you, Kore,” Hades rasped, pulling the sheets tighter around himself.

“You’re welcome, Hades,” Persephone whispered, shyly, gently. “Why don’t you go settle yourself on the couch. I’ll make some tea while we wait out the soup”

—————

Hades had a tendency to throw himself so entirely into his work that he forgot to do the little things he loved the most, like curling up on his couch with his dogs, or enjoying a quiet cup of coffee at his kitchen table, or reading a book. Siting on his couch with Persephone, Cerberus splayed out in front the hearth, it seemed such a shame that he had to get sick to enjoy this kind of moment.

The tea she’d brought him was honey-sweet and floral, some sort of pomegranate and hibiscus white varietal, perfect for his scratchy throat. Somewhere along the way she had learned how he took his tea and remembered, because this cup was perfectly to his liking. 

Knowing this information was one thing, but what to do with it was another, and he couldn’t quite figure out what to do with the flutter of his heart, the warmth rising in his belly.

With the whole length of the couch available, Persephone sat on the cushion next to him, feet tucked up under her, a cup of tea in her hands. While the water was boiling, she’d retrieved another towel from somewhere, soaked it in cold water, and pressed it to his forehead.

Hades couldn’t help it, staring up at her through his tousled fringe, pouring all of his thanks out into the one long look He’d never had anyone who remembered how he took his tea. Hadn’t had someone to take care off him when he needed it since, well. Since Hera, all those years ago. Even then, Hera had been asked, but Persephone… 

Hades could rationalize that she was also asked. But that wasn’t entirely true, and even he knew it. Hecate had only asked that she get him home and resting. The rest was so beautifully and perfectly _Persephone, _to go so far above and beyond the expectation of kindness. 

“Hades?”

“Yes?’

“Would you like to lay down? I can move over. You—you could put your head in my lap. I want you to be comfortable.” Persephone was looking again with those big, fretful eyes, and he couldn’t say no to more any more than he could say no to breathing. Hades nodded, and she scooted over, holding her arms out wide to coax him towards her, until his head rested on one soft thigh, the rest of his body curled up under his blankets. 

The day weighed on him; Hades was rubbed raw and utterly exhausted. He felt exposed, vulnerable, but somehow he felt safe in this makeshift sanctuary between them. If he looked at Persephone now he thought he might cry, so he laid with his head to the side and stared out the window, where the rain had slowed to a gentle shower.


	4. Part Four

Persephone waited until Hades’ breathing had slowed to a soft, untroubled rhythm before she even dared to let the tension ease from her shoulders. Hades had moved to his side so that he was facing away from her. 

As usual, she hadn’t given a second thought to the intimacy of it. The position was probably more suited to lovers than friends; the other Gods of Olympus and the Underworld were so sparing with their affection and physical touch. But she always liked being held, especially when she was sick, and so she was happy to hold him while he slept, as long as he would let her.

Warm and tucked in to the blankets as she was, with Hades’ head weighing pleasantly on her lap, Persephone began to drift off too. Hades turned in his sleep from his side to his back, his nose almost brushing her belly, one hand reaching up to rest against her leg, and suddenly she was wide awake again.

Persephone froze, not wanting to move in case he woke up and realized what he was doing, but she was relieved when enough minutes stretched by that it was reasonable to assume that he probably wouldn’t be waking up.

Some time after that, she got up the courage to take a peek down at his face.

Did his face always carry those distressed lines around his eyes and mouth? Was it being sick that did it? Even in sleep, he somehow managed to look troubled and exhausted. Persephone self-indulgently drew her thumb idly down the line between his brows, smoothing out the tense pull of those tiny muscles, and it must have been relaxing because Hades snuggled in closer, clinging to her, burying his face in her— his — shirt.

_‘Oh, sugar snaps.’_

Sometime soon Persephone would have to get up to check on the soup bubbling away on the stove, which would mean disentangling herself from Hades. They had a while, but nonetheless the idea of disturbing him after he’d finally gotten comfortable and fallen asleep… it was not ideal, to say the least. 

Persephone sighed, absentmindedly running her fingers through Hades’ tousled hair, enjoying the slip of it over her fingers as she tried to decide a course of action. The course of action was decided for her when Hades let out a soft, pained moan and stirred, eyelids fluttering open, meeting her gazed with unfocused eyes. 

“Kore…” Hades whispered. Persephone was going to pull away, but Hades pressed his head toward her hand like a cat, chasing her touch, and so she continued her self-indulgent petting over his silky hair. The look in his eyes was astonishing

Just as she was about to speak, she was interrupted by a knock on the window. A smug, grinning face was looking at her, nose pressed right up against the fogged up window. Eros, his pink face gone rosy with excitement, pointed down to the sleeping King in her lap and pretended to swoon. 

Persephone was no longer the Goddess of Spring. She was the Goddess of Humiliation and Undying Embarrassment, and there was no way for her to escape from her shame because she was trapped with the King of the Underworld’s _head_ in her lap, where it almost certainly _shouldn’t _be. 

Eros slipped around to the side door but thankfully waited there rather than barging in. By some miracle she was able to slip out from under Hades head, cradling it delicately and placing a pillow under him, and creep over to the door.

The door was hardly open before Eros leapt on her, wings out, feathers flying everywhere, and pulled her into a crushing hug. He pulled back, grabbing her face so tightly that her cheeks squished together, before grabbing her by the arm and dragging her down the hallway and into the nearest room.

The nearest room happened to be Hades’ room, of course. Persephone was still too mortified to process a single complete thought; otherwise, she might have considered that it was a gross invasion of Hades’ privacy for Eros to be in his home at all, let alone in his bedroom.

When the door clicked shut Eros turned to her, grinning wickedly.

“OH MY GODS!” Eros’ wings fluttered, leaving a trial of feathers on the floor, and he was all but vibrating with excitement. “Have you kissed him yet? Did you make the first move? Did he make the first move? Does anyone know yet? _Tell me everything, I am dying here_!” 

Persephone blinked stupidly at him. There was over a solid minute of silence, the only sound being Eros shifting from foot to foot in the vague approximation of someone having to pee.

“I— we—“ Persephone snapped her mouth shut, took a deep breath, and started again. “What are you doing here, Eros?” 

“Oooh! Well, I saw Hermes, and he said he had just talked to Thanatos, and Thanatos was meant to meet with Hades today, but when he got up to his office Hecate had taken over his work for the day. After the meeting Thanatos ran into Alecto, who was _also _meant to meet with Hades today, and Alecto said that Megaera said she saw you escorting Hades’ into his car, and that you were getting in the driver’s seat. The poor dear, you know she’s stuck on him still, and he doesn’t even know she exists half the time when he passes her in the office, he can be such an air head…”

Eros inhaled sharply, out of breath, and somehow kept going.

“ANYWHO, Hermes thought it was a little weird that Hades would be letting you drive his car, but he didn’t want it to get back Artemis because you _know _she’d storm out here looking for you, and he didn’t want you to get in trouble. Sooooo, I took a sneaky peak with my powers around the Underworld, and I _knew _I sensed some definite lovey action going on, and I figured I should check on you before Artemis realizes you aren’t at work and decides to come look for you. I flew _straight here._ I couldn’t believe what I was seeing through the window! I never thought Hades could even _look _that cuddly, and the two of you are so precious, I was going to just leave but I had to come in here and get the details!” 

Persephone waited several beats, her mouth hanging open, to see if Eros had indeed finished. Eros wriggled, his hands clasped in front him, looking at her with wide expectant eyes like she was about to present him with a particularly delicious and extravagant ice cream sundae. 

“Hades is sick,” Persephone said slowly. 

Eros moved in closer, beaming at her. “And?” 

“I made soup.” 

“Come on, you don’t need to spare the details, don’t be shy! Inquiring minds want to know.”

“We were just waiting for it to be done?” Persephone looked up at him, willing him to somehow understand that she was just here taking care of Hades, and not as part of some elaborate lovers’ retreat as he’d obviously imagined. 

The silence stretched long, before being interrupted by a long, indignant wail. “Persephoneee,” Eros whined, stomping his foot at her. “Please tell me you you’re not in his house, wearing his clothes, taking care of him when he’s sick, and cuddling him on his couch _platonically. Please._”

“I-I won’t tell you, then?” Persephone squeaked. 

Eros pressed his forehead against hers with an exaggerated groan, his hands on her shoulders like he was going to give one of his siblings a stern talking to. “Didn’t you listening to _anything_ Mom and I had to say? You can’t just quash this and let it die, Persephone, it’s boring. And besides, it’s obvious that he returns your feelings, did you see him? Do you think the God of Death spends a lot of time with his head in women’s laps, letting them take care of him and drive his sports cars around? Do you?” 

“I don’t know. I thought—“ 

“Gods, and here you are, practically serving yourself up on a silver platter, and he hasn’t made a move either? You’re lucky I can’t use my powers on other Gods anymore. I’ve never seen two so much in need of a violent shove in the right direction.”

“Eros, I—“ 

“I mean, come on, you’re not even wearing a bra for Hera’s sake. This bedroom smells like you, there’s flowers everywhere, I can’t believe the two of you! You could cut the sexual tension with a knife.”

“EROS,” Persephone raised her voice, putting on her very best stern look. “Whatever you may think, I’m just here as Hades friend. Period. I’m taking care of him because he’s sick and he needs me. What he doesn’t need is some teenager mooning after him, even if he did return my feelings.”

“But—“

“No, Eros. I do appreciate you coming here to check on me. If you wouldn’t mind not telling Artemis where I am, I’d really appreciate it. But for now I think you’d better leave. Not that I’m not glad to see you, it’s just that I know Hades is private and he might not want you here will he’s laid up on the couch with the flu.”

Eros flashed her a winning smile, hands covering hers, and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “It’s so sweet, how much you care about him, but you should get your asses into gear soon, this is _torture._” 

Persephone picked up the feathers that littered that ground as she escorted Eros back out the front door. He drew her into one last big hug before he left, and when the door clicked behind him Persephone sighed and threw the feather pile in the kitchen bin. 

It was time to check on the soup. 

—————

The gentle patter of rain outside, Persephone’s quiet breathing, the smell of flowers. Pillowing his head against her warm thigh. The tea she’d made him, and her own cup, going cold on the coffee table, forgotten. It was exactly the sort of dangerously comfortable living he could get entirely too used to. A familiarity that didn’t belong to him.

Hades was painfully aware of how little he deserved to bask in Persephone’s kindness, but he was also much too selfish to turn away. So instead of doing the right thing, Hades decided to live in the bliss of this utterly perfect moment, while waiting for the day that the rug might be pulled out from under him. 

When he awoke next, Hades was alone.

Cerberus was snoring lightly, a fire crackled merrily in the fireplace, and the rain outside had stopped entirely. A delicate film of mist had formed on the windows of his living room, and fog swirled close on the ground outside. It was peaceful, but it brought him no peace. Lonely, is what he was. He’d been hoping…

There was a tinkle of dishes in the kitchen, intruding on his melancholy thoughts. Sitting up just enough to crane his neck for a peek over the couch, he saw Persephone fussing over her soup in his kitchen, and he couldn’t help but be relieved that she was still there.

_‘She didn’t leave. It must be getting late by now. _And then— _what did I do to deserve this?’_

Hades fell back into his couch. He still felt terrible, but resting had done him some good. The pain in his head had eased, at least. His body hurt less, and he carried less tension in his shoulders. For a while he indulged himself, listening to her tiny footfalls and tinkering in his kitchen. 

When he heard her approaching the couch, Hades considered closing his eyes, pretending to be asleep still. But he didn’t think there was any harm in her knowing he was awake, so continued staring at the ceiling until her round, pink face leaned over the couch to look down at him.

“Oh! You’re awake!” Persephone said. While he was sleeping she’d pulled her hair into a mess fishtail braid, littered with flowers. It was so long that even pulled to the front of her the end of it brushed her belly. Obviously it had grown at some point while he was sleeping. Still a bit dazed, he reached up, a lopsided grin on his face, and tugged at the end of it playfully. 

“Your hair looks great like this. I mean, it always looks great. But this looks,” Hades stopped, hesitating. _Gorgeous _is what he wanted to say_._ “Nice.”

The shy smile was enough to melt him. He was a puddle on his couch, looking up at this stunning woman. He’d never get sick of that fond look in her eyes, directed at him.

“Thank you! It was getting to be a nuisance, you know? I thought about cutting it but I didn’t want to get flower petals all over your house. Again.” She laughed nervously. “Are you up for food? The soup is done, I can bring you some now. If you’re up for it.” 

Hades nodded, but Persephone didn’t move. She just stayed there, looking down at him over the back of the couch. He stared back, and Persephone cleared her throat. 

“Um… Hades?” 

“Yes, Kore?”

“You’re still holding onto my braid,” Persephone said shyly, looking down at where his hand was indeed still lighting holding the end of her hair, and he released it with an undignified squeak. 

That was it. That was the end of the King of the Underworld. He’d have to move, change his name, maybe join the Norse Pantheon, or hide in the mortal realm, or— or—

“Be right back!” Persephone bounced away, and Hades continued trying to plan his escape route from existence, boiling in his shame. Maybe if he was lucky the ground would swallow him up… then again, he was in control of the Underworld, so it was unlikely. 

_‘What were you thinking? Why are you like this!?’_

Persephone rounded the couch with a tray in her hand. On it, a bowl of soup, a piece of delicious looking crusty bread, and a small vase with a pomelia in it. He sat up abruptly, immediately regretting it for the pain in his bones, and looked down at the tray as she set it up in his lap. 

The pomelia. In some places it was called frangipani. Spread across all manner of tropical paradises, but this one— this one was Sicilian, identical to the one he had drying in his drawer, tucked away with all of his other shameful secrets. This was the one that reminded him of home, of his mother, and now of Persephone. 

Hades was horrified to find his eyes a little wet, looking down at that flower, because could have just as easily handed him a bowl of soup. Didn’t have to make soup at all, in fact. Could have just dropped him at home to fend for himself. But she made this specifically for him, because he was sick. Served it to him on a tray, with a much loved flower.

So many little kindnesses, gentle touches. Looking up from the tray, teary-eyed but thankfully not crying, he saw Persephone was still standing in front of him, biting her lip anxiously. 

“Is— is everything okay?” Persephone’s voice wobbled. Hades died a little inside. 

“Yes! Yes. I’m sorry. It’s just that this is really wonderful of you, Kore.” Hades looked up at her earnestly, trying to fit all of his gratitude into that one look. Somehow he couldn’t find it in himself to tell her the rest, beyond the one platitude. He willed his mouth to open, to say something else, but it didn’t.

Hades reached for his spoon and dipped it into the soup she’d made. It was vegetable broth, full of veggies and barley and noodles. The ultimate comfort food. When he took a mouthful he closed his eyes and swallowed it with an appreciative hum, and looked up at her. 

“It’s Perfect, Kore. Just perfect.” 

Persephone gave him a wide, watery smile, and was off like a shot to the kitchen, returning shortly after with her own bowl and settling cross-legged next to him on the couch. They ate in companionable silence, her knee pressed lightly against his leg, the whole of his world in a soup bowl, an accidental touch, and a tiny flower.

There was so much he wanted to know about Persephone, so many ways he wanted to know her. How she took her tea, what movies she liked, her favorite books, what she looked like when she woke up, or fresh out of the shower. What it was like to kiss her, to make love to her, to have her fall apart under his hands.

Sometime soon Hades was going to have to be very clear with Persephone about what he wanted, and he was never more sure than now about what that was. A chance, at least, to get to know her. But he’d have to ask for it, and the asking was half the trouble. 

The other half was the very real possibility that she’d reject him. That Persephone would see all of him, and be disgusted by what she saw. Or worse, find him wanting, understanding that he didn’t deserve to share any part of her life. 

When Persephone returned he was still lost in thought. Warm, and with a full belly, flushed in the face from the fever and the food and the blankets he was huddled in. He was startled from his thoughts by a small voice saying his name. 

Persephone was perched on the edge of the couch cushion. Her beautiful round face, wrought with concern he wasn’t sure he warranted, peering at him from his peripheral vision. Clearing his throat, he responded with a shaky voice, “Yes?”

“Did you hear me? You were miles away.” 

“Apologies, sweetness. Just lost in thought,” Hades murmered. “I think I’m still tired.”

_‘Just once I want to be suave around her, just one time.’_

“It’s okay. I was just saying that— there’s plenty of soup, I’ll put it in the fridge for you and you can heat it up as you want some. It reheats well, and it freezes okay too, if you can’t eat it all…” Persephone trailed off, fidgeting. Two tiny pink hands, so different from his own, and yet— and yet, there she was, twisting at one end of his coverlet while she stared pensively at the floor. His own hands on the opposite edge, fiddling too.

“Are you going somewhere?” 

_‘Please say no.’_

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I thought you’d probably want to get some sleep…”

_‘Please don’t leave.’_

“If you need me again tomorrow, you could text me? Or if you want someone else to come, I’d understand, I could try to help Hecate in the office…”

_‘Hades you moron, just say something, anything, just open your mouth and—‘_

“I just know you value your privacy, and I know you weren’t exactly expecting me to barge into your house again, and—“

_‘Time to be brave, you big blue idiot.’_

Hades reached out and covered one of her hands with his own. Persephone trailed off mid-ramble, eyes glued to his hand where it touched hers. Hades kept his eyes on her face, waiting for her to look at him. Neither of them moved, or spoke, until Hades took a labored, shaky breath, and broke the silence.

“Kore. What you’ve d-done for me today. I can’t even begin to tell you how— how it makes me feel. No one has ever really taken c-care of me like this before. I’m not sure I’d let anyone b-but you.” Persephone didn’t look at him, still looking down at their hands. Hades choked out the words, determined to finish what he’d started. “I appreciate you, Kore. Very much. I hope you realize, and know that you are always welcome here.”

“Hades,” Persephone whispered to their hands.

_‘I can’t be wrong about this. Please, tell me I can’t be wrong.’_

“Kore?” He whispered.

Their eyes finally met. Hades wanted Persephone to look at him, just as she was now, forever. Like he was something grand, something treasured or precious. The breath caught in his throat, sucked down hot and leaden down to his lungs, as she moved her fingers to intertwine with his, dainty pink hand wrapped up with his big, clumsy blue one. 

“Hades?” She whispered back.

This could be so dangerous for him. Pouring all of his ragged being and what little he had to give into this moment between them. Laid bare, and all for her. 

“I’d like, when I’m feeling better. I’d like to do this again. Maybe make you dinner, and w-watch a movie,” Hades faltered. Somehow he’d pictured himself being a little more suave in his head, as usual. “ What I’m saying is, I’d like—“

“Yes.” Persephone replied 

_‘SAY WHAT NOW?’_

“Wh-what?” Everything stuttered to a halt. Surely his heart had stopped beating, somehow he had died without knowing it, everything was so still, all quiet except the roaring in his ears. He tried his best to recover, clearing his throat and straightening his back in an attempt at levity. “I mean. Yes. Good. Great. Excellent.” 

A long pause, and doubt crept in.

“Wait, just to be clear,” Hades said slowly. “I mean I want to take you on a d-date.” 

Persephone giggled and his stomach just about fell through his ass. 

_‘Oh Gods oh Fates you absolute prick, you’re mooning over her and she’s laughing at you, she’s—‘_

The thought process was cut off when Persephone dove forward, took his face in her hands, and pressed a sweet, lingering kiss to his mouth. When they pulled apart he was shaking, trying to memorize the feel of her lips on his, relishing in the press of her hands to his cheeks, looking into those big pink eyes. 

“S-sorry. I…. sorry. It’s just, I could see you overthinking it, and I thought,” Persephone said, smiling weakly. “I didn’t want you changing your mind.” 

“Hynng!?” The noise that came out could not be confused for speech. “You kissed me… to shut me up.” Hades tried to stifle the chuckle bubbling up in his throat, and failed gloriously. What started out as a low, hearty laugh quickly became a rumbling, full-on belly laugh. Tears leaked out of his eyes, and when he thought about how this entire day had gone for him, he only laughed harder.

“Stop it, stop it!” Persephone shrieked, tugging at his sleeve. “99% SCOUNDREL!”

Caught in the moment, Hades pulled her in for another kiss, equally long and sweet. Chaste, but perfect. When they pulled apart he was breathless, and so was she. “How about now?” Hades breathed, leaning his forehead against hers. 

“I don’t know… you’ll just have to keep kissing me, and we’ll see how it goes.”

So Hades did.

—————

Hecate took pride in her ability to read people. After all, she was so much more than a partner in Hades’ office. She was also his closest confidante, and friend. The one who always felt she could anticipate his needs, even when he couldn’t. She loved him fiercely, and though she didn’t often say it, was fiercely protective of him too.

Minthe was a disaster; water on a grease fire. Accentuating the worst of him while stifling the best. There was still so much more healing to do there before he could really be free of what she’d done to him. But Hades’ biggest flaw of all was believing that he didn’t deserve to be treated with respect, let alone cared for, _loved._

Hecate was fond of Persephone. In all the ways that Hecate was hard, Persephone was soft. Always forthcoming with her affection, whole-hearted and up-front with her love. That’s why it was so obvious how the girl felt about Hades. If she didn’t know Hades so well, Hecate might have missed his returning the sentiment entirely.

It was a stab in the dark, sending Hades home with Persephone. But she had a feeling. There were any number of variables that could have sent things sideways, but her feelings weren’t usually wrong. Somehow she figured that Persephone would go above and beyond taking care of her friend.

Late that Monday evening Hecate pulled up into the driveway at Hades house to check on him. He hadn’t answered any of her texts all evening, but somehow she didn’t think she should be worried. She had a feeling, after all.

Taking a peek in the window, Hecate couldn’t help but smile. There was Hades, the dreaded King of the Underworld, stretched across the couch with his head pillowed in Persephone’s lap. Her head was bent over, asleep, and in her sleep tiny white and yellow flowers drifted down from the crown of her head. Both of them wrapped in blankets, holding on to each other for dear life, with Cerberus belly-up at her feet.

Hecate took pride in her ability to read people. Shaking her head, grinning, she decided not to check in on Hades after all. She hopped in her car and headed home, pleased that as usual she’d done the right thing.

**Author's Note:**

> My hand slipped and I did a trope or three.


End file.
